


It Never Ends

by DashFlintceschi



Series: Prompt Table [1]
Category: Bring Me The Horizon, You Me At Six
Genre: Arguing, Cold Tea, M/M, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7972609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DashFlintceschi/pseuds/DashFlintceschi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom just wants normal. Oli knows he can't have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Never Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Number 1: Journey.
> 
> I know, this doesn't really count as a journey, but every other attempt I made at writing one for this prompt didn't work out, so... It's Tom and Oli's journey through eternity, Tom's journey to normal, or something.

Tom’s lounging on the couch, lazily playing with Max’s hair, when the doorbell rings. He thinks nothing of it, makes a half-hearted attempt to get up and answer it, until Dan calls out that he’ll get it, so he sinks back into the pillows, fingers sliding back into Max’s hair. He stiffens when he hears that voice. The one he’d managed to avoid for seventy three years.

“Hey, I’m looking for Tom Sykes,” he sounds smug, but Tom knows he’ll have that well practiced, charming smile plastered on his stupid, smarmy face. Tom hears Dan mumble something, and Oli starts using that confident, almost hypnotising tone he’d perfected so long ago. “Oh, yeah, I’m his brother, I just need to talk to him for a minute.” Tom prays silently to himself, hoping Dan’s usually cautious nature will win out, that he’ll check with Tom first.

He knows Oli’s charisma has won when he hears the front door close, and two sets of footsteps coming along the hall.

“Fuck off,” he spits as soon as the living room door swings open, and though he has his back to him, he can tell Oli’s doing that stupid over-exaggerated pout.

“Come on, Eli. There’s no need to be like that,” he huffs, and Tom curses to himself as Oli uses his real name, the one he hasn’t used in millennia. Max and Dan both make small noises of surprise and confusion, and Tom considers turning his brother’s skin inside out.

“There is every need to be like that, Oliver. Fuck off,” he snarls, but he knows it’s too late, they’ll have questions he can’t answer. His fucking brother has ruined everything, and he hasn’t even been in the house for two minutes.

Oli smirks and drops down into the armchair next to Tom’s head, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“You had to know this was coming eventually,” he chides, and Tom sits up, careful not to jar Max as he does.

“Why do you always have to do this? Why can’t you just let me live my damn life?” He demands, fists clenched, only getting angrier as Oli gives him a pitying look.

“Because it’s not your life. It can never be your life. I know you think I do it to hurt you, but I’m trying to help,” he tells him softly, making Tom snarl softly.

“Drop the bullshit, Oliver. You’ve never once tried to help me in your life. Every time I settle somewhere, try to be normal, you just have to come and ruin it for me,” he argues, and that pitying look deepens.

“Exactly, you keep trying to be _normal_. You’re not normal, Eli, and you haven’t been for a long time. All you’re doing is hurting yourself,” he explains gently, but Tom’s not listening.

“Yeah? Name one time I’ve _hurt myself_ ,” he demands snidely, and Oli sighs, slumping into the armchair as he turns his eyes to Dan.

“This is going to take a while. Would it be rude to ask for tea? I can never keep track of what’s rude and what isn’t,” he tries to smile, but his knowledge of the fight he has ahead of him makes it look mechanical.

Once Dan’s made tea for the four of them, as well as Josh, Matt, and Chris; Dan knew this was going to be interesting, he couldn’t leave them out of it; Oli sits back up with determination and turns back to Tom.

“Name one time you hurt yourself? How about the time you thought going to war was a good idea? What the hell do you think would’ve happened when they saw you get shot and not die?” He demands, holding his hand up to silence Tom when he tries to argue. “I’m not fucking finished, Elias. The time you thought boarding a ship you knew was destined to sink was a good idea; when you decided to start a relationship with a man when you knew the punishment for homosexuality was execution; when you tried to be a painter-” Here, Tom does interrupt.

“Excuse me, my paintings are still celebrated!” He argues, and Oli laughs humourlessly.

“Yeah, _now_ they are. You seem to have forgotten being destitute, a laughing stock, the number of times you would have starved to death if it weren’t for me. Let’s see, where was I? Oh, yeah, when you went to the ‘New World’; when you married that Puritan bitch-”

“Ok, yeah, that was a bad idea, but how was having me burned at the stake helping me?” Tom demands, but Oli waves him off and keeps going.

“The time you decided to be a playwright-” Tom starts to argue, but Oli gives him a glare that silences him. “When you tried to walk across Europe; when you tried to assassinate the King of fucking England; when you tried to _be_ the King of England-”

“You did not need to stab me in the face, that was completely uncalled for.”

“If I hadn’t, somebody else would’ve. When you tried taking on the Romans with thirty farmers with seventeen weapons between you; when you tried to convince people that atheism was a good idea; and when you tried to start a farm, on an uninhabitable moor, with no experience. Is that enough examples? Because if it isn’t, it should only take me a minute or two to think of about a dozen more,” he finishes angrily, and Tom glares at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure you were helping me every single time. Keep telling yourself that, Mathias. I’m sure it makes you feel better about getting me stuck in this mess in the first fucking place,” he snarls, making Oli laugh incredulously.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that wolf was there?! What else was I supposed to do? You were dying!” 

“Maybe you should have let me!” Tom roars, and Oli doesn’t have an answer, can’t bring himself to speak as he stares at his little brother with shocked, devastated eyes.

The heavy silence that follows is suffocating, until it’s finally broken by Josh’s soft, hesitant voice.

“You knew the Titanic was going to sink?” They both turn to him with surprised eyes. They’d both forgotten the others were there.

“Not for sure, but it was a very strong possibility,” Tom answers finally, and the five of them nod.

“I feel like there’s some crucial information we’re missing. Like the whole ‘massively old and can’t die’ thing, for example,” Dan hedges, and Tom sighs. Yet again, his brother has ruined his chance at normal.

“He was dying, and I saved him. Back then, people knew magic worked, I used a spell to heal him, it… Didn’t exactly work the way I meant it to. Neither of us has aged since that day, and despite numerous attempts from other people, we can’t die,” Oli explains, and they nod, still not sure they understand. They can tell that Tom’s uncomfortable, though, so none of them push for more answers.

They’re quiet again as Oli and Tom drink their forgotten, now cold tea. Once his mug is empty, Tom stands up with a deep sigh.

“Better get my things together, then,” he announces reluctantly, freezing when Max grips his wrist.

“What are you talking about? You’re not leaving?” He demands, voice choked, and Tom tries and fails to squash the small burst of hope that blossoms in him.

“Well, yeah. I’m usually not-so-politely asked to leave when people find out I’m a three thousand year old witch,” he mumbles dejectedly, gasping and whimpering softly when Max stands up and throws his arms around him, clinging tightly.

“You want to leave, you’re either taking me with you, or prying my cold dead hands off you, first,” he insists, and Tom just about manages to stifle a sob, until he sees the other four nodding in agreement. Then he can’t hold back his sobs, shaking harshly in relief as Max drags him back down onto the couch with him, cradling Tom’s head against his chest with one hand as the other strokes his back, mumbling soothingly to him as Oli beams at them.

“Looks like you can have normal after all,” he muses, mostly to himself. He really was trying to help all these years, hopefully he won’t have to anymore.

After a while, Tom manages to calm down, huffing softly as Max keeps rocking them and mumbling soothingly. The thing that makes him calm down completely, and actually laugh slightly, is when Max stops mumbling and rests his chin on top of Tom’s head.

“So… Can I call you Eli, now, then?” Tom considers it for a minute, then shrugs one shoulder.

“If you want. I don’t think anyone but Oli’s called me that in millennia. You’re not just anyone, though,” he tells him with a soft smile, and Max grins.

When Oli leaves soon after, happy that he’s done helping, Tom follows him to the front door, leaning on the doorframe as he looks at his feet, hesitating slightly.

“Just ask, Eli. Whatever it is, just ask,” Oli encourages, and Tom nods slowly.

“Did you ever figure out where you went wrong? With the healing spell, I mean?” He asks finally, making Oli’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Kind of. I’m pretty sure it was because I used Pink Star heather instead of Jana heather for the poultice. Why are you asking?” He thinks he knows why, but he wants to hear Tom say it.

“I can’t bear the thought of living without Max. I’m going to ask him to stay with me… Forever. That kinda means I need to know how to make it happen,” he tells him, cheeks flushing lightly.

Oli grins to himself as he pulls a pen and some scrap paper from his back pocket and scribbles down the healing spell he’d botched, handing it to Tom as Max comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder.

“Be good to each other, yeah?” He grins, turning and leaving with a wave. He knows Tom won’t need his help anymore, but he’ll still pop in to check on him once a century or so, just in case.


End file.
